Chasing Butterflies
by Granger-Danger-62442
Summary: Sometimes, even Time Lords and Ladies need a little fun.


Done as a request for **plagueonthehouseofmontague** on Tumblr. Seeing as I've never actually seen Classic!Who, Romana is probably more than a little OOC. Oh well.

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the beautifully brilliant blue butterflies.**

**Request** - 11/Romana chasing butterflies

* * *

"Come along now! Things to do, civilizations to save, can't be caught lying around all day!" The Doctor sails away from the console and down the stairs, pulling open the TARDIS door with a flourish. He ushers his companion ahead of him, a hand hovering impatiently at the small of her back. (Not touching, though. He remembers from experience that there's only so much rushing you can do with _her_.)

The landscape outside the door is a startling shade of blue, almost white in it paleness, with several darker patches scattered around in a seemingly random fashion. The dark glow from the horizon suggests the time of day as somewhere in the early morning.

With a happy exclamation, the Doctor sails past her onto the frozen ground, stooping a few yards away to examine something at his feet.

His companion follows more gradually, stepping carefully out of the infamous blue box and casting a wary glance around her. She's traveled with this old thing long enough to know: 95% of the time, seemingly barren planets always seem to be the complete opposite.

"Let me make sure that I have this correct, Doctor. "

"Yes, yes, what is it?" His reply is distant, so absorbed is he in his new discovery, and it's such a stark constant to his previously buoyant enthusiasm, that his companion rolls her eyes.

"Doctor?"

He hums. Straightening up, the Doctor procures two objects from his coat that have absolutely no business fitting inside, along with his sonic, and begins to tinker madly.

"Doctor, we are approximately 500 light-years from any civilized planet."

"Yes."

"On a planet made entirely of ice."

"Correct."

"Just so we can capture… butterflies."

"Isn't it lovely? Aha!" With a triumphant cry, the Time Lord flips a switch on the device, causing it to light up a pale shade of green. He extends it to his companion:

"Here you are then."

The woman gives a sniff, tucking a dark piece of hair behind her ear, and glances at the proffered object dubiously.

"Doctor, what exactly _is_ it?

The Doctor glances down to the device, confused. "This? It's a butterfly net, Romana. I hear they're most useful in situations like these-"

"Yes, Doctor, I know what a butterfly net is. My question is," she turns the tool over in her hands, eyeing it closely. "Why is it _beeping_?"

"It's sonic!" The Doctor replies cheerfully.

"Sonic." Romana repeats. Receiving a nod in reply, she shakes her head. "Honestly, who looks at a net and goes, 'That could be a little more sonic.'?"

The Doctor crosses his arms defensively. "The TARDIS laid them out for us this morning! Must've known before I did that we would need to come here. The sexy girl." He adds, almost as an afterthought.

A raised eyebrow.

"Er- uhm." He coughs nervously. "Never mind, not important! Now! Where were we? Ah, yes- the butterfly nets!" With no further explanation, the Doctor sets off across the frigid terrain, leaving Romana scrambling to follow.

"Doctor!" She calls out crossly. "Would you kindly care to explain what we're doing here?"

"The nets, my dear, the butterfly nets! Look at this!" He throws his arms out, gesturing to the open expanse around them. "All of this empty space! We're standing on a big, blue, chunk of ice, searching for a species of butterfly that's only rumored to exist, all in either the late hours of the evening or," he pops his finger into his mouth, drawing it out to hold it high in the air, "very, _very_ early in the morning. Can you tell me what's missing?"

Romana glances around suspiciously. "The _butterflies_?"

"Precisely!" She closes her eyes briefly, holding back a sigh of frustration. Seven incarnations? Right.

As if sensing her irritation, the Doctor hastens to elaborate. "See, earlier this evening, I noticed that the TARDIS was making a rather unusual noise. Nothing bad, I assure you, but still, always best to check isn't it? So I ran the scans, and fortunately for us, she's only run low on-"

"Doctor."

He breaks off with a frown, rather put-out at not being able to explain his, rather brilliant, deductions. "Yes, all right. Essentially, we need a specific… _essence_, if you will, and these butterflies secrete it."

"Yes, like I was saying, I've noticed a distinct lack of flying objects anywhere near here."

"_Getting to that_." The Doctor turns to face the horizon, where the faint glow of dawn can be seen in the discoloration of the icy ground. "These butterflies what's known as ectothermic, and are part of a special genus. At night, the luxuriate in the frosty temperatures, but in the day…" He trails off, gesturing wordlessly.

The sun, now risen almost completely, illuminates the previously dim tundra. Observing with interest, Romana's attention is drawn to one of the odd patches of color that the Doctor appeared to be examining earlier. She lets out a gasp.

"Doctor!" One of the dark splotches has suddenly broken free of the ground, rising gracefully into the sky. There's a moment of calm, and then the butterfly- for that's surely what it is- ignites.

As the sun hits its scales, the light breaks and refracts into a thousand different beams, changing the previously dark shade of the creature's wings into a dazzling scarlet hue. It glitters brilliantly, illuminating everything within three feet of it in a warm glow.

"Yes!" The Doctor exults. "It's beginning! Just as I'd hoped."

Romana swivels her head towards him, an amazed grin playing at the corner of her lips. "I take it this is what you meant by ectothermic?"

"They rest during the night, blending in with their surroundings, and during the day, BAM!" He throws his arms wide, spinning around in pleasure. "Their own personal energy conductors."

"They are quite lovely," Romana admits, watching as several land on her outstretched hand. "We just need to catch a few, correct?" He doesn't respond, and she turns towards him, slightly bemused.

When she catches sight of him, she can't help but laugh. "Doctor?"

He's covered, head to toe, in butterflies. They flock to him, landing on every inch they can find, and he's lit up crimson like he's become their own personal sun.

Pleased, the Doctor crosses his eyes, struggling to focus on one that's perched at the end of his nose. "I'd say they like me better, wouldn't you?"

Grinning, Romana gestures to the Doctor's net, forgotten at his feet.

"Get to it then, Time Lord."


End file.
